Soulless
by Shineera
Summary: The templars were nothing but soulless carcasses who did nothing but blindly follow orders, she thought. But then why would he act like that when all she did was look?
1. Chapter 1

Illene had noticed the looks, the glances and all the petty whispering that was anything but discrete, especially when she passed by those two. Being in constant control by the templars was bad enough, but to be forced to live a sheltered, chaste life as they were? No wonder they were bored enough to think rumors about her were interesting. But it wasn't solely the silly interest they had taken in her private life... some rumors were considered to be dangerous and even more annoying when they simply just weren't true.

It hadn't been the first time that Calden and Gundir had shouted out to Cullen, when she happened to pass by, on her way to the library.

"Hey, Cullen! Your light footed muse is here!"

The ginger templar was as quick to disappear as those two were to shake vigorously with laughter. Idiots. Illene couldn't help but wonder if utter stupidity was a requisite when you took your vows as a templar. She couldn't exactly deny that Cullen was quite easy on the eyes though, and quite the welcoming distraction when all she had done the entire day was burying her nose in ancient tomes and trying to _finally_, set that horridly looking napkin on fire without burning down her entire chamber. Her Harrowing was fairly near, but she was confident in her skills. She had spent way too much time and effort on grasping carefully calculated self control. She could set the world ablaze while a tornado tore apart the Tower, that was for sure. But even so, the doubt, the slim chance of failing clouded her thoughts somewhat.

She couldn't help but be slightly intrigued by the man. Of how he seemed to glance at her, now and then, of how he turned a deep shade of red whenever his less than friendly fellow templars took the few opportunities of being away from the Knight-Commander, to shout the most idiotic tripe they could muster. She couldn't quite understand, up to a point, why he would be so seemingly embarrassed. Afraid of the rumors as well, perhaps?

But even so, discrete ogling aside, he was but one of them. Soulless carcasses, she thought. The templars that wandered the halls of the Tower were nothing but bars in her gilded cage. No choice had been given to her on whether to go to the Circle or not, but there she was, for a great part of her life and she might as well make the best of it.

And so came her Harrowing. The ginger templar stood on the chamber, next to the Knight-Commander, surely waiting for Illene to slip up so they could finally run their blades through one more. Stories were abundant and growing and so was the displeasure at the sight of the templars. Bars. Nothing but bars. She glanced sideways at the nervous young man, hands firmly behind his back, not daring to spare her a glance. But it did not matter, none of it did. She approached her hand to the blinding blue light that shone in front of her, the warmth of it suddenly encircling her while her body began to shiver uncontrollably. Her sight began to fade and with it, so did the image of Cullen, the First Enchanter, all of them.

Soon, she had regained her vision, but all she saw was a barren wasteland, suspended in space and time. Was this the Fade? Was this her trial? She chuckled to herself, grasping her staff and dusting off her robes as she readied herself for the struggles up ahead. They called it challenging, she would disagree, even despite a small drop of sweat having fallen from her forehead on occasion. Even so, that deep otherworldly voice still resonated within her head when she woke up, laying on her bedchamber.

_Keep your wits about you, Mage. True tests never end._

Illene was more than surprised to find herself there, half expecting to have awaken in the Harrowing chamber, standing tall and triumphant. But there she was, Jowan trying to wake her up, pestering her with endless questions about the rite of passage. Her eyes felt incredibly heavy and she could all but nod at the young man, trying to satisfy his questioning or just let him tire of it. Despite considering him a friend, it wasn't soon enough when Jowan left, a distant pang of a headache gnawing on her brain. She could remember him telling her... of how the First-Enchanter needed to see her. Her insecurities were quick to kick in and Illene instantly feared that she had done something wrong, something that she would soon regret. But she passed her test... didn't she?

Groggily, Illene stumbled out of the room, a little too fast for her own pace, nearly colliding with Cullen's carefully polished armor. He held out his hands in front of him, managing to avoid the collision but quickly retracting his hands, avoiding the contact. Illene stopped and looked up at the templar, unsure if she should stay and try to make small conversation or simply sidestep and go on her way. He rubbed the back of his neck and forced a slight smile, stumbling over his words.

"Hum... hello."

Should she return the niceties? Pretend that this was nothing but a small social encounter? People already seemed to have taken a liking to talk about her and Cullen, wouldn't this be feeding the fire? The sudden attention left her intrigued though and she chose to stay. They already talked anyway. It couldn't hurt, could it?

"I... I'm glad your Harrowing went smoothly."

Well, that was quite the weight off her chest. Still, the curiosity of whatever the First-Enchanter could want from her did not subside. And... wait. Was he stuttering? Why was he stuttering?

"Why are you stuttering?"

Apparently, spending more time with books than with people, seriously hindered one's ability to actually make conversation. Cullen looked slightly taken aback and opened his mouth, only to close it again, his cheeks gaining a slight rose tinge.

"What?" He said, slightly higher than he most likely expected. Cullen looked to both her sides and then to her again.

"I-I'm fine!" He uttered, trying to look as casual (casually nervous, really) as he could. He was failing tremendously and it was intriguing... and almost amusing, she thought.

"I'm just glad you're all right, you know? I mean..."

Illene had passed her Harrowing. She did not fail, however, if she had, it would've been this man to struck her down. This very same man that seemed to be terrible intimidated by a small woman in a robe.

"Would you really have struck me down, Cullen? If I had failed?"

The templar swallowed hard, drumming his fingers against his leg while he seemed to carefully measure his words, averting his gaze from hers.

"I would've felt terrible about it but..."

"But...?"

"Hum... I serve the Chantry and the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded."

Soulless. Completely and utterly soulless. What a sad existence... it had to be, to simply follow orders and do as commanded. For the Chantry tells you so. Illene had conformed to the Circle, but she was no blind fool. She had devoted her life to the development of her abilities, but only for herself. She wanted to be the best she could be and the Circle offered her that opportunity. No. She only followed her own orders. She was her own, unlike him.

"Right. Well, I shouldn't distract you from your duties."

As quickly as she could, Illene walked past by the templar, not giving him a second glance or even the chance to speak. But a sudden feeling made her stop dead on her tracks. There was something warm... strong, around her wrist. Grasping it, demanding her attention. Cullen's hand had reached for her and he looked as confused and bewildered as she felt. All too suddenly, he removed his hand, gulping and looking at her, eyes widened in horror.

"I apologize, I-I'm sorry. That was entirely inappropriate and-"

Illene didn't follow orders. Templars and mages don't mix, they say. It is as advisable to do so as it is to escape the Tower. But she couldn't resist and, in a childish whim, she stood on the tip of her toes and planted the lightest of kisses on the templar's lips. Cullen was the personification of shock and she couldn't help but feel the giddiness and excitement bubbling within her. His ears were no doubt in flame and he stared at her, frozen. Illene cleared her throat and looked at him, looking as serene as if nothing had happened.

"Well, no. You see, _that_ was inappropriate. Well, comparing to what you did anyway."

Was he truly all that soulless as he appeared? Then why did he grab her wrist? She simply turned on her heels and began walking towards the end of the hallway, to the First-Enchanter's chamber. She did not look back to see if the templar was still there, but she couldn't help but smile at his reaction. It amused her to no end that she could have such an effect on someone, let alone someone that was more than ready to kill her if needed be... whatever that was. So she laughed to herself, chuckling on the outside and laughing heartily on the inside. She wanted to see him again, to bump into him once more and see what other reactions she could pull from him. How far she could go. Just how bare his soul was.


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N.: First of all, so so sorry for the huge absence. It's the end of my second semester so you all probably know how that goes... more work than I can handle but I finally managed to get some time for writing. So yeah, I'm not giving up just yet :p Lost Moments isn't quite on hold... I just need some inspiration and to get back on the writing rhythm. Well hopefully I haven't alienated all of the people who read my stuff... yet :p_

_

* * *

_

Cullen couldn't help but feel uneasy at what had just happened. Uneasy, _wronged_... excited. No, he couldn't feel excited. Illene was, most of the time, her usual quiet self but this side of her, he most certainly did not expect to see. Or feel. He was far more than surprised when the small mage rose her heels and planted a kiss on his lips. A kiss he still felt, even now, as he sat on the common room and stared more at his food than he actually _ate_ it. A part of him kept reminding him constantly of the double jump his stomach did at that particular moment but his vows quickly rose up a wall against it. Taking a small baked potato to his mouth, Cullen chewed on it pensively, reassuring himself that it was all a nuisance and that if he wanted to be a good templar, he shouldn't dabble in such things. Illene was young, cocky and foolish. As many mages were.

Even so, vivid images of her dark alabaster hair, flowing behind her when she turned away, flooded his mind. Her scent clouded his thoughts and it all felt like poison seeping through his skin. His fists clenched on the side of his plate and he rose up, stiffened in anger, leaving his meal barely touched and the room as soon as he could. Shutting himself out to the rest of the world, Cullen hurried through the empty halls, as everyone were having their evening meals. As soon as he found the door to his room, he pushed it forcefully and locked it behind him, leaning against the heavy wooden frame, letting out a deep sigh that had been caught on his throat.

His knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground, not even minding the pain as his knees clashed against the hard stone floor. His eyes quickly were closed shut and his hands clasped together as his lips muttered words that only he could hear, in his frantic prayer. Perhaps Andraste could purge these thoughts from him, to breathe them away from his soul through every pore. But her presence would not leave him and would surely follow him to his sleep. So he did not even regard his bed, afraid that the vision of it would bring the sight of her. So, he prayed.

* * *

Illene sat on her bed, dangling her feet while she chew on her finger. She kept biting her nail without any intent, merely taking up the task as a means to keep her hands occupied. She thought of the First Enchanter and her meeting with him. Of that warrior he had presented to her, of the Grey Wardens, he said. The prospect of being recruited was both alluring and repellant. Here, in her gilded cage, Illene had all she wanted... a roof, food, her books. But did she truly want to grow old in this place, with no tales to tell except of how she passed her Harrowing? But then again, the thought of battling Darkspawn... even all the promise of adventure and glory of battle soon faded when she thought of her enemies. She had read about these creatures, of how they tainted the land all around them and of how they had robbed the dwarven people of their own cities.

Exhaling deeply, Illene threw herself backwards, letting her head land on the pillows she had splayed on the bed. Without realizing it, she licked her lips, bringing the tip of her fingers to them. Ever since she had kissed the blushing templar, they felt somehow... _different_. Illene couldn't help but frown at the knot she felt forming on her stomach, at the thought. Being with a man was nothing new, but she was hardly proficient at it. She had been with someone who was far more experienced and to see someone like Cullen, completely oblivious, untouched, was utterly fascinating to her. How could someone live without the touch of another, the momentary affection of the flesh, instead trading it for prayer and the salvation of one' soul...

It baffled her. And as much as she tried, Illene couldn't even begin to understand what would make someone take that path, make that choice. True, the templars were chosen at a young age, much like mages. But Cullen was very much a man now and he could make his own choices. And he chose to devote himself to the order. She couldn't understand... truthfully, she didn't want to. It was far more fun to make him see her point of view.

Stretching out her arm, Illene reached for the small book she kept on her nightstand, opening it above her on the spot she had last left.

_To successfully weave a web of energy..._

_...close one's eyes and shut one's mind..._

_...imagine a doorway..._

_...feel it through your veins..._

Illene tried to concentrate on the text but the words, the letters even seemed to do nothing but jumble themselves together. The empty room she laid in seemed so cold at the moment and she felt so alone, the silence feeling so... _quiet_. Leaving the book opened on the bed, Illene left her room in haste, wearing nothing more but her nightgown.

* * *

Cullen was setting his armor on the wooden stand he kept on the corner of his room when he heard the door behind him being opened. He quickly turned his head back and widened his eyes at the sight before him, mentally repeating the prayer he had uttered over and over before, but he quickly lost his train of thought as Illene stepped inside, her bare feet not making a single sound on the cold floor. Her bare shoulders leaned against the door behind her and she looked at him, mouth slightly agape. A few strands of her hair laid softly on her shoulders and her chest, barely covered by the white fabric.

Cullen could feel the heat flushing to his cheeks as his eyes laid on her hips, memorizing how every inch of the almost sheer fabric clung to her flesh. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it again, averting his gaze in shame.

"Hello Cullen. I..." Illene tugged on the fabric of her nightgown and looked at him, her eyes burning through him.

"I wanted to apologize for before."

"You c-can't be here."

Cullen mentally slapped himself, his stuttering betraying his nervous state. He wanted to look calm and collected but how could he do such a thing when she was there, looking every bit like a goddess?

She frowned at his words and took a step forward, looking intently into him.

"I can't? Why? I'm merely speaking with you."

Cullen tried not to notice when she took another step forward and her hand grabbed his bare arm, the heat of her skin on his being almost unbearable. He couldn't even breathe, reciting in his head every single prayer he had learned since a small child. Mages were not alluring, mages were not inviting.

"I could not help myself..."

They were dangerous and an impending menace and...

"I've seen the way you look at me. It's hard not to notice. And I simply..."

Her breath. Hot on his chin, her chest nearly touching his as he kept his eyes firmly glued to the ground, trying as hard as he could to ignore her presence. But her hand slid upwards, heat surging from her fingertips and making him feel dizzy.

"...couldn't resist."

Getting away from her grip, Cullen took a step backwards and grabbed a discarded blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders, still averting his gaze from hers.

"You're..."

_You're not decent._

"You'll catch a cold."

_This is not right._

Cullen fearfully rose his eyes to meet hers. Heat was surging to her face but it all came from the anger that now clouded her eyes. Her teeth were clenched and her eyes were wide at him. His seemingly innocent gesture did not please her. At all.

"You... you!" She grabbed the blanket and threw it on the floor, exasperation seeping from her every movement.

"Illene..." Cullen tried to call out for her, surprised at her reaction, of how the wall that Illene had kept in place at all times, quickly crumbled. She shook her head, a scowl tarnishing her features as her hand flew to the door handle and she violently opened the door in one swift motion.

Before Cullen could say a single word, she was gone. The templar wanted to sigh of relief, to feel at ease. Then why did her departure make him feel like he was in the midst of the coldest Winter?


	3. Chapter 3

Illene almost felt the metal handle scalding on her hand from all the burning anger she was feeling. The young mage was most definitely not one to let her emotions take over her, so the way that she threw the door of her own room, making it shut with more force than she could muster, was surprising to say the least. Was she angry at the rejection she had suffered or angry at herself for letting something like this affect her?

Illene threw herself on her bed and muffled an irate cry under the pillow she pressed over her face. She did not know which was more empty, the Tranquil mages or the Templars. Nothing more than automatons, they were, quickly resorting to their so called faith when anything appeared that steered even the slightest bit away from their imposed morals. Pathetic.

The young girl clenched her fists and took a deep breath, regaining her usual composure. He was not even worth the effort, no matter how much she wanted to push forward, to see how far she could take it. But he wasn't worth it. Then why was she so mad? Why did it bother her so? Any other man would've ripped her clothes off, not cover her... or at least that's what she thought. Why?

The image of him, with only a pair of slacks and his undershirt on, still hovered in her memory. Now that she thought of it, Illene had never seen Cullen in anything other than his armor. And the feel of his muscles under her fingers... Illene half closed her lids and thought of what it would be like to run her fingers not up his arm, but down his chest, his stomach...

Her hand suddenly slammed against the book she had left on the bed, her eyes opening abruptly. She could not bring herself to think such things. No, he had practically told her to get dressed and get out so that was the end of it. Illene wasn't one to give up so easily in the face of an obstacle but this... man... seemed to make her own control more fickle than it should. And that was something that Illene simply would not have.

The next day was fairly uneventful. Illene remained absorbed by her studies of projection of the soul, far too busy to notice the wandering Warden, always accompanied by the First Enchanter, seemingly examining all of the young mages that filled the halls, as potential candidates for being recruits. Illene did not notice as well the way both Cullen looked and _not_ looked at her, stealing quick glances towards her way when he was almost sure that no one was looking. Once, she returned his gaze, icily looking deeply into the templar's eyes, his head quickly turning and taking a sudden interest on the massive shelf that stood behind him.

Illene pretended to keep reading the tome she held, but her blood boiled within her. Even after taking that particular course of action, Cullen still dared to act like an infatuated fool towards her, like he always had? It was of such idiocy, she could not even express it into words, if she wanted to. Could he be playing games? Holding the large book in front of her face, Illene hunched herself slightly over the table, letting the book cover almost entirely the front of her face, peaking over it. Cullen stood straight, bowing his head slightly as Irving and Duncan passed by him, displaying respect for both men.

No, Cullen was not someone who played games in such matters. He was a good and righteous templar, who did what he was told, ever since he was taken to the chantry as a small boy, like every other templar in that tower. He knew the love of Andraste and no other and to give himself to simple carnal pleasures was both an offense and a crime to the great Andraste before whom he bowed. He was far too respectful for such things and it maddened her. All she hadn't done was strip herself bare in his room and all he did, instead of whisking her away and covering her skin with kisses, was to look away and dwell in his awkwardness. Then why, for the Maker' sake, why did he insist on glancing her way every now and again? Was he really that stupid?

Illene got up, brushing off her robes and grabbing the heavy tome under her arm. Without sparing another glance or thought, she strode away into the large hallway and into her chamber, eager to put all the racket past her.

At the turn of a corner, Jowan was standing by the wall, quickly shoving a few papers under his robes while looking relieved to see her. Illene did not question what he was up to, she did not care. Her friend was far too grown by now for her to constantly run after him, scolding and telling him off for doing something that would most likely get him punished. As time passed by, this seemed to please him, the less questions seeming to be the best, apparently.

"Illene...! Ah... hum."

"Relax, Jowan. I'm not going to ask if those are dirty illustrations or forbidden texts, or anything of the sort. You can rest assured."

The young man widened his eyes and frantically looked about, glaring at the young girl who was, undoubtedly, amused by his reaction.

"Shhh! Do you want anyone to hear us? For crying out loud, Illene..."

"No one heard us." She patted him on the shoulder and slightly insinuated herself. "If they did, you can always say they were dirty notes to me."

"Actually," Jowan brightened up slightly, after verifying that they were indeed alone. "I have something to speak with you. It's actually to ask a favour."

Illene rolled her eyes and cocked her head sideways, looking at Jowan and trying to stifle a small smile.

"Isn't it always?"

Jowan opened his mouth to speak but Illene's hand quickly covered it before he had the chance to utter a single word.

"I'm _slightly_ busy right now," she whispered, hovering the heavy book in front of the mage's face "but I'll pass by your chambers later and we'll speak."

She slowly removed her hand and gave Jowan her biggest and brightest smile, hugging the book against her chest and turning on her heels.

"You poison spewing..."

She smiled over her shoulder and saw the young mage with his arms crossed, grinning as well in a half hearted manner. Without replying, she kept walking forward, her smile dissipating and her usual mask falling into place. She hugged the book tighter and took a little run towards the stairs that led up to the floor where her room was.

Her fingers had nearly reached the brass handle on her door when a familiar voice startled her.

"I-Illene."

She did not turn, knowing exactly who stood behind her, merely turning her head to her side, giving him a sideways glance.

"Yes, Cullen?"

His silence showed her that her cold tone had taken him aback, surely planning his next few words and trying not to stutter himself into a death trance.

"I wanted to apologize... I believe I might have given you the..." The templar took a deep sigh and swallowed the knot that had formed on his throat. "The wrong impression."

With this, Illene turned towards him, keeping the book against her as she measured up the man in front of her. He towered over her but he seemed so much smaller, in the midst of his blushing and his attempts at _trying_ to have a normal conversation. The wrong impression. So was he calling her conceited now?

"Why, yes Cullen, I believe you might have." She took one step forward and Cullen's jaw clenched in a defensive manner. "With the way you keep looking at me, the way you simply do not know where to place your hands when we're like this." She spread out one arm, making a broad gesture. "Simply having a nice, meaningless conversation. Yes Cullen, I was a foolish little girl, with wild romantic notions. I am the one who should apologize."

Cullen opened and closed his mouth several times, taken aback by Illene's not only forward manner, but the cutting coldness in her words.

"I-I didn't mean it like that. I..." He looked slightly defeated, grasping at words that seemed more than intent in getting away from him. "You know that this is not right, that if anyone knew... it cannot be."

"Why?"

"Because it can't. I can't... let you into my room barely..."

"Why?" Illene took another step forward, keeping the same expression she donned before, not betraying herself.

"Because you're a mage and I'm a templar! And you know that cannot be!"

A smile crept up on the corners of Illene's lips, the templar's words not hurting, fueling instead the fire she felt within her and that, only moments ago, she had tried to bury under a thick layer of ice.

"So what you mean is... those labels are what's stopping you? That if I wasn't a mage, you would take me? Here..." Her voice lowered seductively into a whisper. "...and now?"

Cullen's cheeks turned crimson and his eyes widened at the very second her words struck him.

"What... No! Don't speak like that, who knows who might be hearing and do you know even half of the trouble we could be in?"

Cullen looked truly desperate, trying his best to keep his voice low while he battled breathlessly against his state. Illene shook her head at his determination, of following the rules and not _breaking_ them.

"What is it with you people and speaking low and not wanting anyone to hear you? I don't understand, are we not to be heard? Not to speak? Not to let our desires be known?"

Illene ran a hand over the worn leather cover of the book she held and looked at Cullen, defiantly, under her eyelashes.

"It baffles me, really."

She looked away and turned once more to her door, not the single, smallest shred of desire to continue the conversation, despite the excitement that bubbled within her. It hadn't been a total loss and so she disguised the smile that tugged at her lips while she turned the handle, leaving the bewildered templar alone on the hallway, with his composure to be restored.

"Goodnight Cullen."


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N.: Yes I know, mixed up timeline. Well, yes I don't care :p and btw, thanks for all the kind reviews. Much appreciated (:_

_

* * *

_

Cullen stood motionless on the long and empty hallway, staring at the carved wooden door that closed over Illene, without the slightest hint of hesitation. His cheeks were on fire, his mind burning and he could still feel the burrowing of her eyes on him. Maker, he could almost swear he had seen flames in her eyes. The templar shook his head, trying to leave the sin that clouded his mind on her doorstep, turning to leave and finding himself regretting his decision to follow the mage.

Water, he desperately needed ice cold water, to wash his face, to pour over himself, to let the shock return his control. He had always admired her from afar, ever since he had taken his vows and joined the ranks in the Tower. Ever since she was a lithe young teenager, her face still bearing the soft roundness of childhood, but her eyes already carrying that fire within them that seemed to be breathed into life whenever she tried to concentrate on her studies. More than once, Cullen had seen how her nose crinkled slightly whenever she turned a page and encountered something that would present an obstacle, a trait she carried over into the brim of her adulthood.

Years... of dreaming of her and turning to prayer and his vows that he so fervently honored. Of thinking of how things could've been different if he was just Cullen and her just Illene. Of stealing glances when he thought no one was looking and of putting up with teasing when _someone_ was looking. But he knew it could never be. He served the order and he knew the punishment they would suffer. That she would suffer. He simply couldn't.

Cullen treaded the hallway with weary steps, finally leaning against the stone wall, at the end of it. He ran his hand over his face, trying to get rid of the blushing that had settled on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he straightened himself and prepared to go past the archway.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

Whispering the Canticle of Benedict to himself, Cullen took a decisive step forward and made the decision, one he had made a thousand times before, of not sparing the mage a single thought, ever again. A decision he knew he would break a thousand times more.

* * *

"You want what?"

Illene looked at Jowan, eyebrow raised, still quite unsure of what she had heard. After her meeting with Cullen, she waited for a few moments before leaving her room and meeting her friend like she had promised. He had dragged her to a secluded part of the chamber, where that annoying girl from the Chantry stood as well. Illene couldn't stop herself from looking at the girl, from top to bottom. She couldn't even begin to see the allure the girl had or why would even Jowan go to such an extent to be with Lily. Lily... what a perfectly pure and chaste name. So adequate.

But to be made a Tranquil... could he truly be right? Could they really want to turn Jowan into a thoughtless shell of his former self over mere suspicions? Suddenly, both Jowan's and Cullen's words gnawed deeper within her... no, one could truly not speak freely in the Tower. But she had nothing to fear. For now.

"Your philactery?"

"Yes."

Jowan looked completely defeated, grasping the Chantry girl's hand, who looked at Illene with a peaceful, yet hopeful look on her face. Thank the Maker her mouth was shut, her calm and soothing voice had the strange effect of feeling nothing but grating to Illene. She did not like her one bit. Men and women of faith, all alike.

"I can't stay here... they will strip me of my humanity!" Jowan let go of Lily's hand and grasped Illene's instead. Despite her usual collected state, Illene felt her stomach take a flip at this request. She could endanger everything she had worked for but Jowan... but she could not even begin to think of how it would be to see her friend going through such a thing. Her heart ached for him and she averted her gaze, despite grasping his hands as well.

"Jowan... I want to help you but what you ask of me..."

"I know... I know, Illene. But..." He searched for her gaze and she raised his eyes to meet his, clenching her jaw and trying her hardest not to betray herself with her own emotions. "I have no one else to turn to."

Illene stood silent for a moment, looking at her friend, taking one furtive glance at Lily. She despised the girl, that was for sure, but Jowan loved her. She brought him happiness and both that very same happiness and everything that made him who he was were at stake. Illene wanted desperately to help him. But at what cost?

"Jowan... I'll ask you a few moments. To think this over-"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Jowan immediately cut her off, taking her by surprise.

"I haven't said yes, yet."

"But you'll consider it, won't you? Just that..." An unsure smile crept up on his lips, genuine gratefulness showing through his eyes. "Is enough for me to thank you. I know what I ask is a lot, but Illene..."

"I know. Give me this night, alright? I will give you an answer tomorrow." She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled as well. Jowan was one of the few people that managed to get a true smile out of her, even if it was one of sadness. "I simply need to think it over."

Jowan threw his arms around her, giving her a tight hug that nearly left her breathless. When he finally let go, Illene hunched over slightly, still taken over with the force the young man had embraced her with. She glanced once more at Lily, noticing how the girl was smiling widely at her reply. She had not given them a definitive answer and yet... they were beaming.

Illene left the couple after Jowan kissed her forehead, the thought of her friend's fate still clouding her thoughts. She had always seen the Tower as a necessary evil, a gilded cage as she often called it. A place not to control the mages, as the templars would have it, but rather a place to nurture their abilities and learn the ways of their condition. She had never thought much of the Tranquils... it never concerned her. But now that Jowan, someone she had grown up with, who had been next to her through nearly every stage of her life... to even think of him in such a state, broke her heart.

Illene didn't go straight away to her room, instead wandering aimlessly around the halls, deep in thought. She soon found herself in front of the First Enchanter's door, stopping on her tracks as she heard voices. She knew the Grey Warden Duncan still was a guest amongst the mages but why would Irving be in his office in such a late hour? Her curiosity burned within her, so Illene gave in and remained as silent as possible, leaning in against the door, trying to discern what the voices were saying.

"I know she has already passed her Harrowing... and quite well, might I say, but Illene is far too young. She spends her day buried in books, barely speaks to the other mages. I am not so sure she is the right choice."

"She is. I can assure you, my impressions are usually right when it comes to this and your assertions of her display in her Harrowing only further confirm this. I could not choose anyone else."

"Perhaps... I must say, Duncan, despite everything, I never quite imagined that Illene would ever go that route. To become a Grey Warden... a skilled scholar perhaps, but a warrior?"

"Sometimes warriors lie in the unlikeliest of places... and of men."

Illene steadied her trembling hand against the cold wall. Not once, did Irving ask her of this. He merely presented her to the Grey Warden, where she smiled and nodded, completely oblivious to her impending fate. To join their ranks, without having a choice. When she was but a child, she had no choice but to join the Tower. But she was a woman now, why was her power of decision being stolen away from her? Her fists clenched and her jaw trembled. To be taken away from all of this... the adventurous idea that seemed once alluring, now was nothing but a maddened idea forced upon her by two men that seemed intent on merely using her as a pawn in a war she did not want to wage.

As the voices quieted, Ilene ran. Her footsteps echoed through the large halls, her heart increasingly beating faster and faster, almost feeling like it was about to burst out of her chest. She reached the sanctity of her room and quickly crumbled to the ground. She did not cry, she wanted the release but it did not come. So she sat there, hands on the ground and her hair dangling around her face as her ragged breathing steadied.

Curse the templars, curse the Grey Wardens, curse the Circle! Damn them all, and their rules and their morals. Damn it all! If she could not have it her way, they would not have it easy either. She already had one foot out of the door, what could she ever have to lose?


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen frowned at the request Greagoir was making.

"I apologize, Knight-Commander... but is it really necessary to impose this task on one of us?"

Cullen immediately bit his tongue, slightly surprised at his own reaction. But the last thing he wanted right now was to face Illene and he knew _very well_ where Greagoir's request would lead him.

"You were standing idly about, the First Enchanter needs that particular tome for our guest... don't question it, Cullen. The time you're wasting on doing that, you could've already have the book in your hands."

"Yes, ser." Cullen straightened himself and lifted up his chin. "I'll get right to it."

Cullen left the room slightly fazed. He had seen that particular tome about, that spoke of Fereldan's myths and legends and that had quite a lengthy chapter on Grey Wardens. The reason the First Enchanter wanted it was most likely for the very intricate engravings with depictions of the order and its deeds. He had seen it, alright. It was the book Illene was carrying the last time he saw her. Cullen let out a deep breath and furrowed his brow. All paths seemed to lead to her, whether he wanted it or not.

_"Might as well get on with it._" Cullen thought, so he headed to the first place he could think of, where she would most likely be: the library.

At that time, most of the mages were at one of the common rooms, conversing and occupying themselves with something other than magic, a way to distract themselves from their daily affairs. So the only person sitting in one of the large tables, was indeed Illene, with her nose buried in a book while a tall, lanky man stood beside her. He walked slowly towards their way, the young man's voice becoming clearer with each step Cullen took.

"You may have heard what they're going to do to your friend..."

Illene frowned but quickly regained her usual expression, never once lifting her eyes nor speaking a word.

"And it would not surprise me if they did the same thing to you."

"Jealous, Zierin?" She quickly snapped, still letting her gaze remained on the old, yellowed pages. The man seemed to be taken aback by her reply, snarling at her.

"Magic comes from within, as much as you read, it won't make you half as good as some of us. It's too bad Irving doesn't see that. You're already empty inside and useless, they might as well make the best of it."

Illene's eyes shot up and her fist banged loudly against the table, her jaw clenching and her eyes widening. Cullen could see white wisps... glimmering... forming around her fingers, so he broadened his steps and approached the pair.

"It's time to leave, mage."

The long haired man looked at Cullen, surprise in his eyes, the insidious snarl still remaining.

"This does not concern you, templar."

"Yes it does. Any demonstration of aggressiveness, verbal or otherwise, between mages is a matter of concern for the safety of the Circle, therefore, our business."

Cullen could see Illene, through the corner of his eyes, staring at him in bewilderment. The other mage's posture was quickly sunken and he took a deep breath, noticeably realizing that it was futile and, eventually, dangerous to oppose the templar in such circumstances.

"So, leave. I will not ask again."

With his pride wounded, the tall mage quickly gathered his robes around him and turned to leave, not before giving Illene a look of disgust. Cullen ignored the man as soon as he left and turned to Illene, who had gotten up and was gathering her things.

"Is everything alright? " He asked, worry seeping through his tone.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I couldn't just let him-"

"I can very well take care of myself." She looked straight at Cullen and her piercing eyes almost made him shrink within his armor. "He's a dimwit. His words are nothing but meaningless."

"Then why did it look like it bothered you so much?"

She stared at him for a moment, before averting her gaze and busying herself once more with the piles of papers that covered the table.

"Did you want something?"

"Ah! Hum... actually, yes."

She stopped mid task and looked at him expectantly, raising her eyebrows as if to tell him that she was waiting.

"That book... you had. Myths of The Land. Greagoir asked for it."

Illene rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh as she grabbed the big pile of books, quickly walking past Cullen before he even had the chance to offer his help. Cullen stood there, for a few seconds, before her voice broke through the silence and jolted him awake where he stood.

"I have it in my room."

She never stopped walking, even as she said this, so he took a small run to pick up to her pace, while she dashed through the long hallways, never looking back. He had been a _victim_ of her cold stares before, of her distant attitude, but this...? It felt like he was getting hit by a whole blizzard storm. Either she truly despised him or the mage from before had truly bothered her.

Illene did not speak a word until she reached her chambers, clumsily opening the door, while trying her best not to let the books on her arms fall, finally laying them on her bed, while she turned to her desk and looked at the indistinguishable mess of papers, books and shreds that lay on it. She placed her hands on her hips and bit her lip, turning her gaze to Cullen and raising her brow at him, not the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

"Are you going to stay there? I don't even know where the damned thing is..."

Even so, he stood. Looking at her, as Illene fumbled around on her desk, looking under piles of papers and becoming noticeably flustered at her failure. She lowered her head and chuckled to herself, before grabbing a pile of books and throwing it to the ground, with a growl of frustration. Cullen stood his ground, surprised with her sudden outburst. Suddenly, a strange sound came out of her, slightly muffled, while her shoulders seemed to shake while her hair covered her face.

Could she... was she... was she crying?

She did not speak a single word nor even moved, when Cullen took one step inside and silently closed the door behind him. He gripped the handle until his knuckles turned white, his heart tightening at the sight before him but fear still gripping at his wits. This was not the cool and collected Illene he knew, the girl that wandered the hallways, never without a book underneath her arm and never indulging herself in silly antics that the other mages did. This was not the nymph that insinuated herself on him, stealing a furtive kiss from his lips, all while flirting shamelessly with the young templar.

No... this was a different person, someone Illene never allowed anyone to see. Her sobs were getting louder and she was now taking deep breaths, as if trying to calm herself. Leaning on the desk for support, Illene turned her eyes to Cullen, the blue coldness within them now absent, only a large sea of sadness replacing it. The tears had stained her cheeks and a few strands of hair were sticking to them. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he saw her like that, not bearing to see the one he loved in such pain.

_Loved_.

He couldn't deny it, not any longer. Approaching Illene, Cullen took her chin in his hand and lifted it, wiping away her tears, softly, with the tips of his fingers. Her lower lip was quivering and he was still amazed at how this girl, that seemed to be harder than the peaks of Frostback Mountain, now seemed so frail...

He could feel her ragged breathing as he leaned in, his face inches away from hers. She did not flinch nor back away, looking deeply into his eyes while a few sobs still shook her body from time to time. Her hand rose up to his and she closed her eyes, cherishing the feeling of his skin on hers. Lazily opening her lids, she bridged the gap between them and brushed her lips against his, slightly, still teasing even in her fragile state. The contact was like fire and Cullen couldn't restrain himself from pressing his lips against hers, feeling the soft skin brush against him as his arms wrapped around her waist and brought her closer to him.

He barely moved his lips, mesmerized and cherishing the softness of her lips but they beckoned to him, as she parted them slightly, partly to breathe and partly to rub them slightly against his. Desire ran through him like wild fire and he thought he was about to go mad when the tip of her tongue ran lightly across his lower lip. In an almost silent gasp, Cullen opened his mouth and felt Illene's tongue, temptingly, touching his own... her taste making him delirious. He was half dazed by everything but his fear due to inexperience prevented him from going any further, his hands still laying on her waist and letting her do all the work. He tried to mimic her, to let himself go and he stopped thinking as soon as her fingers tangled themselves on his hair and she pushed herself further against him.

Despite the bothersome armor that covered him, he could sense her lean fingers working their way through the clasps of it, his eyes widening with surprise when he heard the first clatter of steel on the ground, one of his braces laying there while his chest plate quickly followed. A flash of reason jolted him awake and he broke the kiss, the feeling of not being connected to her being now awkwardly strange. He gazed at the young mage before him, inches away from his face, her eyes half lidded and her lips swollen from his kisses. She let go of him and took one step back, never taking her eyes off of his, her fingers slowly rising to the back of her neck. Her hands worked quickly behind her hair, the sheer fabric that covered her collarbone and her neck draping over her chest. Her hands slid to her shoulders and to the loose robes, as Illene made it fall to her feet in no time, the deep green robes pooling around her.

Cullen's heart stopped and reason fled him once more. She was pale but shone with the orange light of the candles near her, making her skin look almost iridescent. Her long black hair almost took a reddened tone, matching the flames that eternally shone in her eyes. She was still swollen from the crying of before, she did not shake anymore but now her chest rose quickly in anticipation, drawing his eyes to her small breasts. Cullen simply stood, gaping at her, without a single reaction as she stepped forward and cupped his face with her small hands, once more teasing him with only a slight brush of her lips. Electricity ran through his body and now he feared no longer, desperate to feel her softness, her taste. So he drowned on her kiss, letting her lead him to her bed, yearning to feel her body against his and to lose himself in it.

* * *

Illene did not sleep, instead staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, while the templar beside her slept peacefully. She had meant for this to happen, but not like this. Not with her heart fluttering about and with her stomach doing insane back flips. She had broken down before him and he had comforted her. He had fulfilled her body, her heart, her soul. And for one small moment, in between ravenous kisses and unsure touches, she felt completely and utterly his. And that left her confused.

The Tower had nothing left for her, she thought. She was going to risk all she had to help Jowan... she had decided that the moment she knew the decision to join the ranks of the Grey Wardens had been made for her. She would no longer be a part of the Circle or answer to them. All the more reason to step forward and prevent them from making the mistake of turning Jowan into a lifeless shell of himself. But deeply she knew, that it wasn't true. There was something left in the Tower... and she had only just realized it.

Illene turned her head and looked at Cullen, admiring his jaw and how slightly parted his lips were, with his steady breathing. She lifted her hand to caress his cheek, but stopped midair, sighing to herself and putting her hand against her chest instead. She couldn't let Jowan wait any longer, she had promised him an answer and he should have it as soon as possible. So she rose, as quietly as possible, trying not to stir awake the templar, but ultimately knowing she had been unsuccessful when she felt his hand on her hip.

Neither templar nor mage said a word. Illene turned her gaze to him and cradled his hand on hers, his lazily open eyes staring lovingly at her, a smile creeping up on his lips. She lifted his hand and rose it up to her chest, putting it slightly over her left breast. Despite what had happened only moments ago, Cullen was slightly taken aback by the gesture but soon, she could see in his eyes that he realized there was nothing erotic about it. She had placed his hand over heart. And so, her confusion was no more.


End file.
